Fracture Patterns
by Suilven
Summary: As the final battle with the Reapers grows closer, Shepard and Garrus are forced to face the missed opportunities and regrets that have led them to where they are. Will it be enough, or is it too little, too late? Garrus/Tali, Garrus/FemShep
1. Point of Impact

Like on the battlefield, time seemed to slow, and Garrus instinctively registered each nuance. He didn't miss the sharp punch of air Shepard expelled; the way her smile faltered, her eyes overcome with an emotion he didn't understand. It was if she were a sheet of glass and the concussive force of the moment was blooming before his eyes; hundreds of tiny cracks fracturing across the surface of her normally unflappable composure.

Tali took a step back, away from him, and his arms dropped awkwardly to his sides as he released her. She was stammering—he was, too—anything to cover up the stunned silence and the way Shepard was staring at him, at them, with a shocked look of betrayal. But before he could get his bearings and reorient himself in this strange place they'd suddenly found themselves in, Shepard had already picked up the pieces of her shattered mask and a somewhat tighter smile had returned in place of the one before it.

"I'm happy for you. Both of you."

Her eyes gave away the emotions she was trying desperately to hide, like the hand of a drowning man clawing at the surface of the water. He could tell that much before she blinked and turned away, retreating without a backward glance. Garrus finally allowed himself to look at Tali, more than a little relieved that she was standing there beside him, clearly at a total loss, too.

"What just happened?" She continued to stare at the door as if it might open again to reveal this strange Shepard that neither of them recognized.

Garrus flexed his talons, an old nervous habit. "I don't know."

Before the doors had hissed open, he'd been the happiest he'd been in, well, he didn't know how long. He'd always enjoyed spending time with Tali, but this time around had seemed different. More relaxed. A sense of ease and familiarity in desperate times.

They'd both been the core members of Shepard's squad since the original Normandy, and it had been easy to fall back into a friendly camaraderie. He'd found himself growing fond of the way Tali's suit modulated her voice when she was pretending to be annoyed, and equally fond of being the cause of that annoyance. They'd mourned the lack of proper food, he'd teased her about her shotgun and Kal'Reegar; she'd teased him about his sniper rifle and Shepard—the thought now made his mandibles clamp close in discomfort.

He'd begun to find reasons to visit her in Engineering, acutely aware each time his hand lingered too long on hers when he passed components and tools down to her as she worked in one of the ducts.

She'd begun to find reasons to visit him in the Main Battery, his heart racing a little each time she'd leaned back against one of the consoles as she watched him work, offering suggestions that were, more often than not, better than what he'd come up with.

Yesterday, she'd leaned against him instead, pulled him close. Whispered that she'd begun to feel something _more_ than just friendship… did he? In response, he'd let his forehead drop to touch hers, just as they'd been, just now… The buoyant elation of the _moment_ _before_ made the sour guilt that was growing heavier and heavier in his gut even worse; the _moment_ _after_ more bitter for the sweetness that had preceded it.

Tali squeezed his hand lightly, stepping towards him and into the warmth of his embrace. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, unsure of what to say.

"Garrus, did you and Shepard ever—" He felt her take a deep breath and slowly exhale. "Was there ever anything between you? There were some… rumors, before, when we were with Cerberus."

Her question pierced directly into the heart of his own unease and he tightened his arms around her slender form. "No. There was never anything… like that." The _not quite truth_ was evident in the harmonics of his subvocals, subtle enough that only another turian would have picked up on it. Truthfully, he'd thought about it. In fact, if he was completely honest, he'd _more_ than thought about it before coming to the conclusion that having an unrequited crush on your CO wasn't something he should continue to dwell on. "That can't be it. Why would she—?"

Tali pulled away enough to look at him. "_Keelah_, Garrus! You saw the way she looked at us. I've never seen her like that. Never."

"Maybe something else happened just before she got here. She's practically living in the War Room these days." He fought the urge to pace back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck instead. There had to be some other explanation that would make the ache in his stomach subside. "Maybe she had something on her mind and was surprised to find you here."

Tali folded her arms across her chest. "That doesn't make sense. When was the last time Shepard took someone besides the two of us on a ground mission?" She looked down at the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "She's one of my closest friends, too, you know."

Garrus sighed. "I know. I just don't want to think that… that we've hurt her somehow. "

"We need to go talk to her. Figure this out."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. After what happened just now… Maybe we should just let it lie for a bit."

Tali drummed her fingers against the console as she thought. "All right. But promise me that we'll talk to her about it tomorrow. Conflict on a small ship like this…" She shook her head. "It gets worse the longer you leave it."

"I know. I just—"

"Feel terrible?"

"Yeah." He pressed his forehead to hers, enjoying the calmness the gesture provided, although it was all new enough to send a coursing rush of desire and affection through him as well.

She reached up and stroked the side of his face, one gloved finger lingering over his markings. "I should go. Do you want to meet up in the mess for dinner?"

"I'd like that very much."

oOoOo

With Tali gone, the Battery seemed far too quiet, despite the ever-present hum of the circuitry. He couldn't help glancing at the crates in the corner, almost expecting to see Shepard there in her usual spot.

He missed her.

If Tali hadn't been here when she'd walked in, would she have perched herself there like always? She might've grumbled about some new errand of Hackett's or the latest Council idiocy, might've given him that lilted half-smile that he'd spent endless nights dreaming about after she'd died.

He was being stupid; she hadn't gone anywhere. Nothing had changed… except for things between him and Tali. His thoughts spiraled hopelessly around the _rightness_ of her in his arms contrasted with the inexplicable look in Shepard's eyes that made him feel like she'd been spaced again—right at that moment, in front of him—and he was watching her drift impossibly away into the glittering emptiness. He caught the low growl starting in his throat and shook his head. Not again. He couldn't face that again. Wouldn't.

Garrus gave in to his urge to pace as he tried to make sense of it all. Maybe he should just go talk to Shepard. Maybe he was eating himself up over nothing, something that had nothing to do with him, or Tali. They'd always been able to talk about everything before, so this time shouldn't be any different.

He spoke before he could change his mind. "EDI, where's Commander Shepard?"

"Commander Shepard is in her quarters. She left a request that she not be disturbed until 0600 hours. Is this an emergency, Officer Vakarian?"

"No. Thanks, EDI. I'll… talk to her tomorrow."

"You are welcome. I am always happy to assist."

Despite a vague sense of relief that she clearly didn't _want_ to talk to anyone right now and he could easily find something to read for an hour or two before meeting up with Tali, the nagging feeling in his gut made it perfectly clear that he wasn't going to be able to let this rest. While it was certainly possible that she was just catching up on some sleep—the bluish bruising beneath her eyes gave away the fact that she hadn't been getting enough for some time now—he knew that wasn't the case.

She'd retreated after Mordin, too; after Thane. Each loss was driving her further and further into herself. As much as he didn't want to make things worse, he couldn't just sit there. He was her oldest and closest friend, hadn't she once said that to him? He owed it to her.

Straightening his shoulders, he strode out of the Battery and towards the elevator, looking far more confident than he felt.

oOoOo

His resolve got him as far as her doorway, where he stopped, unsure. Before _this_, whatever had just happened, he'd always just walked in. Her door was always open—at least it _had_ been—for him, anyway. He flexed his talons as he hesitated. Should he knock? Maybe he should just go back down and send her a message; let her seek him out when she was ready.

A small sound made him freeze; the second time today that he'd found himself paralyzed by the shock of witnessing Shepard exposed, raw… vulnerable. It unsettled him more than he was willing to admit.

Edging closer to the door, he listened with growing trepidation. A human or asari wouldn't have heard a thing—the noise was muffled by the heavy doors, by the low thrum of the ship's engines—but _he_ did.

She was crying.

Commander Shepard, the Savior of the Citadel, defeater of Saren and Sovereign, the unopposable force that had taken down the Shadow Broker and then the Collectors…

He'd never seen her cry, not even after Virmire.

But she was crying now.

His heart constricted tightly, mimicking his clenched mandibles, as he leaned forward to press his forehead against the cold metal doors. The irony of the gesture wasn't lost on him.

She was crying and he'd hurt her.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there—the passage of time marked only in the quiet sobs that echoed accusingly in the stillness of the hallway—but he didn't move, couldn't, until the sounds ceased. He could picture her, curled in a ball on her bed with her knees tucked up against her chest. No blankets though; she hated any sensation of being confined. He could imagine her breathing slowing like it did when she catnapped in the shuttle, her hair tangled into the strange curls that it reverted to when it was damp with sweat.

The silence grew longer as he battled the urge to go in and check on her. If she was asleep, she wouldn't know, but… it wouldn't be right. With a twinge of longing, he tried to imagine what it would feel like to tuck those loose strands of hair carefully behind her ear, to let his talons ghost down the soft, flat plane of her jawline.

His thoughts flickered to Tali, wondering if her skin would be smooth and soft, too, and the sudden conflagration of guilt that erupted made him tremble. How could he think of her when Shepard needed him, needed _someone?_ Could she really have feelings for him that went beyond the closeness of their friendship? Why had she never said anything? He'd thought he knew her, that he'd been one of the rare few allowed to see what lay behind the Commander Shepard persona that she projected for everyone else. But, she'd hidden this, and the pain of that stung almost as much as the wound he'd inflicted on himself; that he hadn't seen it either.

And now it was too late.

He'd left her an opening, months ago, buried in an embarrassing story about a recon scout in his past, but she'd just given him the smile that he liked to think was only for him and slipped away.

Maybe he'd been too subtle; he hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable or risk what they already had. The opportunity had flared and passed, but at least he'd taken the shot, such as it was. Better to have shot and missed than to have never even made the attempt.

Then, she'd turned herself in to the Alliance, he'd returned to Palaven… Lying in the darkness of Solona's spare room, surrounded by the delicately spiced scent of the flowers his mother had loved, he'd banished the possibility of something more. He would be there for her, in whatever capacity she wanted. That was enough. More than enough.

He placed his palm against the door, letting it slide down the polished surface until it stopped just short of the interface that would open it. On his visor, he watched the rhythm of his own heart beating for a few more endless minutes before he walked away, unable to face her… or himself.

* * *

_A/N: I've altered the timeline a little here so that the event of Shepard walking in on Tali and Garrus happens earlier, rather than immediately before the trip through the Sol Relay and the final push towards Earth. Also, the rating of this may jump up to M for language and adult situations; we'll see how it goes. :) Finally, I make no promises for a happy ending. I can honestly say that I don't know how this is all going to end yet, but my inner angst princess has been whispering ideas, so we'll just have to see how it all unfolds. Thank you so much for reading!_

_Super special thanks to Josie Lange for waving around her magic beta stick and for all her support! You're the best!_


	2. Pocket Full of Miracles

_A/N: Rating bump-up to M for language._

* * *

_The docking tube stretched out before her, stars glinting menacingly through the gaping wounds in its walls. Shepard closed her eyes, resisting the urge to check her suit integrity one more time. Everything was fine. She was fine._

_The first step brought the reassuring reverberation of her boots clinging to the metal—they'd held, of course they'd held— and she let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding. She was fine. The stars were still out there and she was here and safe and fine. _

_Another step. _

_She could already see that the way forward was going to require some maneuvering to get around the numerous breaches; conduits and wiring dangled loosely, covering the holes where the panels had been blown out and torn away. A trickle of sweat rolled down her back as she made herself turn and walk upward along the one path that was still structurally intact. Everything was fine. No need to check the hoses running from her air supply._

"_Shepard, you okay?" Garrus' voice over her comm was tinged with concern._

_She closed her eyes again, swallowing tightly. "I'm fine."_

"_It's just… it's been a few minutes and you haven't moved."_

_Shit. When had she stopped? Taking a long, deep breath she opened her eyes. "Sorry." Another step. Her legs were trembling. She made it as far as the next broken panel. _

_Everything was fine._

_No, it wasn't. She wasn't fine. _

_The open space around her was eating away at the gaps in the walls; metal plates detaching and drifting away, letting in the silence and the stars._

"_I can't—I can't do this. I can't." Shepard crouched down with her head between her knees as her pulse hammered woodenly in her ears and dizziness swept through her. _

"_Yes, you can." _

_She let out a gasp that was almost a sob. _

_Garrus._

_There were hands on either side of her, helping her stand. _

"_We've got you, Shepard."_

_Tali._

_She turned to each of them, knowing they couldn't see the gratitude that was on her face. They didn't need to see it to know it was there._

_Together, they picked their way forward once more. The banter between Garrus and Tali was easy and light, drawing her thoughts away from the precipice she'd been at moments before as she kept her focus on the docking bay in the distance. She was fine. They were almost there._

_The pathway of stable panels grew narrower as they got closer, and soon they were walking in single file. _

_Garrus. Tali. Shepard. _

_Garrus was the first to cross over to the safety of the ledge, reaching his hand out to help Tali stride over the final gap. Shepard felt the vibration in her boots first as the docking tube shuddered. _

"_Garrus!" She was still too far away from the edge of the docking bay and the black glittering maw of space was opening ahead of her. "Garrus!"_

_With a burst of adrenaline, she charged forward, leaping as the girders holding the tube together let go._

_Too far._

_It was too far._

_Garrus would catch her. Everything was fine._

_But… he didn't. The taloned hand that should have been reaching out to take hers was stroking the rippled fabric of Tali's hood as he embraced her; the two of them lost in their own moment as she was drifting. _

_Lost._

_She should be panicking. Everything she'd feared was happening—again—and yet the only thing she felt was a dead sort of calm. She was supposed to be here, supposed to be dead… wasn't she?_

"_Garrus," she whispered, reaching her hand out hopelessly anyway. _

_But it was Tali who lifted her head, watching her with just the flickers of her eyes behind the purple haze of her mask before settling her cheek back against the comfort of Garrus' shoulder._

_There was a faint hiss—the familiar lullaby of a ruptured air supply—and then darkness._

oOoOo

Shepard woke with a strangled gulp of air, her eyes focusing first on the wide window over the bed and the stars rushing past.

Stars. Fuck.

She barely made it to the bathroom in time, heaving what little was in her stomach painfully into the toilet. The wall was blissfully cool against her head as she leaned against it, waiting for the spasms in her stomach to subside. When she could stand, she rinsed out her mouth with cupped handfuls of water from the sink. She wasn't sure how long she had slept, but there was no point in trying to go back to sleep now. Still shaking, she stripped off her sweat-drenched clothes and showered quickly, letting the water get hot enough to sting.

Her omnitool confirmed that it was only just past 0200 as she pulled on clean clothes and bound her hair back into its customary ponytail. She hesitated briefly in the elevator, her hand hovering over the button for the Crew Deck. It was late. While the possibility of running into Garrus was low, it certainly wasn't out of the realm of possibility, and she didn't think she could face him right now. Not when her emotions were too volatile, too… out of control. Shepard rubbed her eyes wearily. She just wasn't getting enough sleep, wasn't eating enough. That was all there was to it. It wouldn't take long to stop by the mess and grab a nutrient bar or two before heading back up to the CIC.

The thought of food… her stomach roiled uncomfortably. Maybe later.

The CIC was quiet, just the skeleton staff that maintained it at night, and Shepard was grateful for the minimal amount of interaction required. There were a few nods and salutes to acknowledge her presence, but she was otherwise left alone.

Skimming through her messages, there was only one of any immediate importance; a comm facility in the Kepler Verge that Cerberus was attempting to take control of. She moved to the galaxy map, taking a strange measure of comfort from the actions she'd performed hundreds of times: marking out a few systems they hadn't examined yet; calculating how long it would take to detour out their way to look for an artifact for the Elcor.

They weren't far from Ontarom; a short side trip to fuck up the Illusive Man's plans sounded like just what she needed right now. After that, a supply run to the Citadel and a chance to give the crew a night or two of shore leave. Shepard forwarded the navigation information to Joker and then retreated to the War Room to spend a few more hours obsessively combing through the endless reports and correspondence that had piled up during her brief absence. Her head was starting to droop—she'd read the words on this datapad at least three times now without registering anything—when her omnitool beeped softly. 0500 hours. Time to wake up.

Shepard snorted at the irony, adding the datapad to the top of the pile towering on the table's edge near her elbow before standing up and stretching. The ache in her right shoulder was somewhat worse because of how she'd been hunched over next to the terminals and she rolled it a few times, trying to ease the incessant stiffness.

"EDI, are we in orbit around Ontarom yet?"

"Not yet, Commander. We will have reached a suitable altitude for shuttle deployment in approximately two hours, twenty-eight minutes."

"Thanks. Nothing further."

She sent Cortez a brief message to ensure the shuttle would be ready and made her way to the elevator. Traynor's station was still vacant, although the CIC was notably busier than it had been a few hours before. With a heavy sigh, she punched the button for the Crew Deck.

She had to face them—him—some time. She knew Garrus had seen through her yesterday. Hell, she was sure they both had. They'd both just looked so happy, so… comfortable with each other. It was stupid, but somehow she'd always thought there was something _more_ between her and Garrus. Sure, they'd never acted on those feelings, but that was because they were military. Professionals, with a keen regard for the chain of command and what that responsibility entailed.

Shepard had always shown a commitment to duty that went beyond the average soldier, even during basic training. It was _that_ discipline that had set her apart, that had kept her alive and determined and focused on Akuze. _That_ discipline that had got her noticed for the N7 program. _That_ discipline that had made her the first human Spectre. She had never even broken the fraternization rule, and that was the one set of regs that _everyone_ broke. Maybe that was her problem; she'd never been able to just _let go_.

The mission had _always_ been more important, but that was the way it was supposed to be. You didn't win wars by fucking your subordinates and letting them watch you drink yourself stupid in some seedy off-world bar. You held yourself apart, propped them up as they floundered under the weight of the responsibilities placed on them. Watched as they joked and loved… and lived.

At what point had she gotten so caught up in saving everyone else that she'd forgotten to save herself? When had she last slept more than three hours in a row, or eaten something that wasn't a dry ration meal replacement? But how was she supposed to sleep, eat… do any other of the mundane tasks of _living_ when _every fucking second_ she wasted doing those things meant that Earth burned a little more? Not just Earth; Palaven, Tuchanka, Sur'Kesh…

She sighed again. Pull off one miracle and everyone acted like you had a bunch more in your back pocket.

Fuck.

No wonder she was losing it.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you to Josie Lange for the beta - your suggestions were spot on, as always - and to karebear for launching the Team Angst ping pong ball my way (again). :D_

_Thank you, as well, to everyone who has taken the time to read/review/alert/favorite. I appreciate the support so much! _


	3. Division

A quick scan of the tables in the eating area next to the kitchens revealed no Garrus, no Tali. The knot in Shepard's stomach eased a little—although that didn't keep her from glancing over at the Main Battery doors, fully expecting them to open at any minute. She grabbed a tray and queued up with the rest of the crew waiting for breakfast, pointedly shaking her head at the offers for her to move to the front of the line. There was something reassuring in being just another soldier; just another body; just another pawn to be moved around as the Alliance saw fit.

Liara and James were sitting at one of the tables along the wall as she emerged from the crowd with her tray, almost shocked at how _good_ the food smelled. She could take her tray to any empty spot, scarf her meal and get back to work, but the warmth of Liara's smile made her hesitate and she found herself walking over to their table. "Room for one more?"

"Shepard! Of course; it's nice to see you here." Liara slid over, giving her enough room to sit down.

"Lola!" James grinned, too, pushing his empty plate away. "It's good to see you eating some real food. I was starting to think you actually _liked_ the taste of those nutrient bars."

Shepard shrugged before attacking her reconstituted eggs with a surprising enthusiasm. She really _was_ hungrier than she'd thought. "They're not that bad," she replied between bites.

"As varren chow maybe."

Liara wrapped her hands around her mug of citrus-scented tea and took a small sip, her eyes concernedly searching Shepard's face. "You look tired."

"I _am_ tired." She managed a wan smile at the asari. Her eggs finished, Shepard picked up a strip of hydrolyzed soy bacon with her fingers and took a large bite from the end, chewing thoughtfully. "There's just… so much to do. So much I want to do, and I can't."

Liara covered Shepard's other hand with her own, leaving it there for a moment before withdrawing it. "We're all here for you, Shepard. If there's anything more I can do, I would be more than happy to help."

"Me, too. Just say the word, no?"

The show of affection made her eyes prickle with almost-tears as she stared, once again, at the closed doors of the Main Battery. It didn't matter what he was doing back there. It didn't matter what she felt or how much she hurt. She was Commander fucking Shepard and she got the job done. Whatever the cost.

Still, the thought of having Garrus and Tali at her side today…

They would be completely professional; she knew they would be. So would she. It would be a simple thing for them to fall into the perfectly synchronized dance of battle that they'd performed so many times. Such a simple thing to pretend nothing had changed.

But, could she really deny the fact that her thoughts had already strayed; wondering what Garrus was doing behind those closed doors? Jealous murmurs caressed and cut, filling her head with imagined scenarios that made her clench the edge of the table until her fingers ached.

Maybe he wasn't even in there. Maybe he'd spent the night in Tali's quarters, where the environment was cleaner—safer; the one place on the ship where Tali was the most acclimatized… The best place for her to risk slipping free of her enviro-suit, just long enough to…

Shepard turned to Liara and James, deliberately discharging the tension in her body with a sharp exhalation. "I can definitely use a hand. You two interested in going planet-side today and giving Cerberus an ass-kicking? We've got a comm facility that needs to be cleaned out."

Vega sat up straighter. "Hell, yeah."

"Absolutely."

Shepard swallowed the last acrid dregs of her coffee and stood up. "Then grab your gear and meet me in the Shuttle Bay in an hour." Dealing with Garrus and Tali could wait. Hell, what was there to deal with anyway? That he'd betrayed her feelings about an imaginary relationship that they'd never even had? Fuck, she was being stupid. She was better than this. _Focus, Shepard. The mission is all that matters._

James disposed of his tray, giving her a friendly bump on the shoulder as he passed her on his way back to the elevators. "Thanks, Lola. I'm looking forward to some action. Feels like I've been ship-bound forever."

"Prove to me you can get through a mission without crashing my shuttle and maybe I'll take you along again."

"Ouch." He flinched away with a look of mock hurt before saluting her, his dedication diminished by the wink he gave her after speaking. "Duly noted, Commander."

Shepard tossed her own tray onto the racked collection cart, her mind already turning over possible scenarios for the upcoming mission. She should ask Traynor if she could dig up some blueprints of the facility so they'd have a better idea of where the key access points were. Then, there was that new mod that she'd been meaning to install on her Tempest. She should have time before she needed to suit up.

"Shepard?" Liara placed her hand casually on Shepard's arm, stopping her before she'd reached the elevator. "I'm sorry; I just… wanted to ask. Is everything all right?"

Shepard stilled, her words as crisp and clean as her dress blues. "Of course." She smiled reassuringly, even managing a soft chuckle. "A bit tired. But, who isn't, these days? Well, maybe EDI…"

Liara squeezed her arm lightly before removing her hand. "I was just wondering…" She paused, looking briefly like the young, unsure woman she'd been when they'd first met and less like the woman she'd become. The years since Shepard's death had changed her, just like all of them, making her harder and more wary.

The asari's gaze went where hers would not before coming back to meet Shepard's own with a flare of determination. "I was wondering if there was a reason why you weren't taking Garrus and Tali with you on this mission. I know it's none of my business, but the three of you have always been so close." She scrutinized Shepard's face as she spoke. "I'm honestly not sure why you asked me."

The glib answer came easily. "It's been too long since we've worked together. _Really_ worked together."

But, this answer opened up something else—a blind spot suddenly falling away—and the ensuing vertigo nearly made her reach out to steady herself. She groped for the right words with the dark chill of realization thundering in each pulse of her heart. "I realized… I've been relying too much on the same ground team. We all need to be learning how to work together well, so there isn't an over-reliance of familiarity with certain members of the team."

Shame made it difficult to get the words out without fumbling, and she was sure that Liara had picked up on her sudden unease.

Fuck.

She _had_ been taking Garrus and Tali out far too often, more often than a proper rotation of ground teams would dictate. Sure, they were exceptional when working in tandem with each other. It was so much easier to get things done when they each were able to move, react, and predict each other's actions. It was irrelevant that she'd had good reasons for sticking with the same core squad—familiarity, complimentary skills, less injuries, more successful missions than not. But, in the harsh truth of the moment, Shepard knew that she hadn't chosen Garrus and Tali for _those_ reasons. They were her friends—her closest friends—and she _liked_ working with them. She hadn't been thinking logically, but had let herself, fooled herself, into thinking her selfish reasoning was justified. The rest of the team _had_ been underutilized and she'd grown complacent.

Complacency led to mistakes.

She was better than this.

"Shepard?"

Liara was staring at her, unabashedly concerned now.

"I'm fine. Really." Shepard's teeth ground together as she clenched her jaw. "Look, it's my fault. I should have been changing up the ground teams more frequently, a mistake that I'm rectifying _right now_. If you don't want to go, say so now and I'll—"

"No. That's not it at all. You know I'll go with you, do whatever you need. I'm just worried about you."

"Don't be." Shepard held herself perfectly at attention, her body rigid. "If you're coming, then I'll see you at the shuttle."

"I… Of course. Commander."

Shepard nodded brusquely and marched to the elevator, barely able to restrain her desire to pound her fists against the doors after they'd closed.

oOoOo

Garrus was pacing—again.

He hadn't slept well, and had finally given up on the pretense that if he just laid there long enough that he would. The snatches of dreams that he'd managed to fall into had been conflicted: fierce words between Shepard and Tali; Tali's fingers stroking his fringe had morphed into Shepard's; the sensation of Shepard's soft mouth exploring the sensitive skin of his throat. He'd woken sharply, embarrassed by the blaze of arousal that was still racing heatedly through him combined with a lingering feeling of betrayal.

He was going to have to talk to Shepard—somehow—but… what was he supposed to say? Even the mock conversations in his head seemed to freeze up and hang after his first few words; endless permutations of code, all unsuccessful.

_Hey Shepard. So, Tali and me are sort of seeing each other. Clearly, that's bothering you._

_Hey Shepard. So, I guess you know about Tali and me now. I promise it won't get in the way of our work._

_Hey Shepard. So, I heard you crying last night. Want to talk about it?_

_Hey Shepard. So… I guess I'm an ass._

Aside from the last option, he was getting nowhere.

He _could_ just go talk to her and hope that whatever came out of his mouth was somehow more intelligent that what his brain was coming up with.

Right, because that had worked so well last night when he'd stood outside her quarters for half an hour while she'd cried herself to sleep.

Dammit.

He flinched as the Battery doors slid open; his mandibles relaxing as Tali strode in and enveloped him in a tight hug. She let go almost immediately, drawing back to leave a socially acceptable amount of distance between them. "You missed breakfast… and you look like you didn't sleep at all."

"Not really." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I've been trying to figure out what to say…"

"We still don't know why Shepard reacted like she did. I was wondering if it had something to do with the Alliance rules about fraternization, possibly some taboo we weren't aware of? I did some searching on the extranet last night, but couldn't find anything useful… Anyway, I think we should to talk to her before we jump to conclusions." She paused, looking down at her hands before looking back at him. "Well, more than we already have."

He sighed, wishing it could be as simple as a misunderstanding. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right." She poked his chest gently. "Come on. We'll clear things up with Shepard and then everything can get back to normal. EDI, where can we find Shepard?"

EDI's voice filled the room. "Commander Shepard is not currently aboard the Normandy."

"What do you mean she isn't aboard?" Garrus' subvocals changed pitch drastically, registering his alarm and surprise.

"I am authorized to say that Commander Shepard is with Dr. T'Soni and Lieutenant Vega. If you like, I can forward all information on the mission that is classified for your security level, Officer Vakarian."

"Please."

"Data sent. Is there anything more?"

"No. No… that's fine. Thanks, EDI."

"Logging you out."

Garrus brought up the information on his omnitool, skimming through the details as Tali peered around his shoulder. "This isn't just gathering intel. This is a combat mission."

"More than that. A combat mission… and Cerberus."

They stood in silence as the images and text dimmed and faded.

"She went without us?" Her voice had none of the confidence it had been overflowing with moments before.

"Yeah. It looks like she did."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting the next chapter - pesky real life. :) _

_Thank you so much to Josie Lange for assuaging my insecurities about this chapter and for her wonderful beta reader-ing, and thank you to all of you out there for reading. It means a lot to me. :D_


	4. Wounded

The pieces of his sniper rifle lay neatly disassembled on the work bench, each piece in its customary place as he worked; methodically checking each component for damage as he cleaned every crevice, every chamber. It was a task that simultaneously required none of his concentration and a significant amount of busy work, therefore perfectly suited to the fact that he'd spent most of the last hour trying to pretend that the vacuum where the Kodiak _should be_ wasn't tearing him apart.

She'd gone without him before—Alchera flashed through his mind before he could stop it. The Bahak system… Aratoht.

Spirits, how could she have left him behind?

Sure, this was different. This was routine. He'd read through the mission reports at least a dozen times now and it sounded like a day trip compared to everything else they'd been through lately. No big deal… except that he wasn't there to watch her back. How was he going to forgive himself if something happened? He could already feel the desperation that had sunk its claws into him on Omega cutting into the back of his mind; already taste the blissful haze of ryncol that had gotten him through those first few months.

No. She _was_ coming back.

He finished with the piece in his hand, wiping the surface with a soft cloth before placing it on the right-hand side of his workspace and selecting another. It was almost hypnotic, watching his hands go through the familiar motions even as his brain shrieked in panic. He selected a slim bristled brush and dipped it in the jar of cleaning fluid, running the bristles across the jar's lip to remove any large droplets that had accumulated. The brush slid easily along the grooves, removing any residual oils. One more piece and then he would allow himself to check the time again.

He'd already set his omnitool to notify him the second Shepard was back on the ship, but that hadn't been enough—which was why he was camped out at the weapons modification bench. He was sitting _right here_, staring at the emptiness that filled the shuttle bay—that filled him—and that wasn't enough either.

With delicate twists of his hands, he maneuvered the part to expose every opening, every gap, every weakness to the brush's onslaught.

Brush down.

Visual inspection.

Cloth.

Another addition to the allotment of pieces on the right-hand side of the table.

Six hours, thirty-nine minutes.

Garrus stared at the table for a moment before selecting another component. Five more, and then he could check the time again.

_You can come back any time now, Shepard. Any time._

_Please._

oOoOo

His sniper rifle was almost completely reassembled when Garrus felt the familiar rumble through the soles of his boots. The exterior shuttle hatch doors were opening.

Seven hours, nineteen minutes.

"Attention: All personnel are required to move into the designated safe area at the front of the shuttle bay. Following decontamination procedures, the rear hanger doors will be opened in twelve minutes, three seconds."

Already well within the safe area, Garrus quickly snapped the last few pieces of his rifle into place and stood up. Should he be here, waiting, when Shepard stepped off the shuttle? His gut said 'no,' but the urge to see her and reassure himself that she was truly all right made him linger as he tidied his work area.

He shouldn't stay.

They needed to talk, properly, and this would just be awkward.

Garrus carefully stowed his newly-cleaned weapon in his equipment locker and walked to the elevator, nodding politely at the other crew members chatting in front of the doors. The second rumble he heard, as well as felt, and it was impossible to resist a glance at the rear hangar doors beginning to open at the far end of the shuttle bay. Before his indecision could get the better of him, he activated the elevator console with a determined swipe of his palm. The nose of the Kodiak was visible now and, soon, the large arms anchored in the ceiling would clamp on to the body of the shuttle in order to guide it into the vacant docking bay to his left.

Flexing his talons impatiently, he watched the arms slide forward to meet the incoming shuttle.

Where was the damn elevator?

This one had always been faster than the one on the SR-1… on every day but today, of course. Just his luck…

When the doors hissed open, he moved to bolt inside.

"All crew, move away from the elevator. I need direct access to Docking Area B."

"Dr. Chakwas?"

The doctor gave him a soft look that even _he_ could tell bordered on pity. "That includes you, Garrus."

He didn't move—couldn't—until she placed a hand on his chest and gently propelled him a few steps backward.

No.

No, no, no.

It was a _routine mission_. Nothing special.

His voice cracked like a youngster just starting their military training. "Shepard?"

"Wounded. Not life-threatening." Dr. Chakwas patted his shoulder as she went by. "Breathe."

Just wounded. Not seriously hurt. He clung to that litany as the shuttle coasted into the docking area, the steady mechanical grumble of the mechanism guiding it suddenly falling silent. Garrus pressed himself against the back wall, his heart in his throat. The doctor was standing just inside the safe area, making a final check through the supplies she'd brought down with her. The rest of the crew had moved further away, not talking any longer; their attention fixed on the still-closed doors of the shuttle, just as his was. He should've been there, with her…

EDI's voice brought the artificial tableau instantly back to life. "Kodiak docked. All personnel may now move safely throughout the shuttle bay."

Dr. Chakwas strode purposefully towards the shuttle, and she vanished inside just as his omnitool helpfully informed him that Commander Shepard was now listed as being on board.

The minutes crawled by.

Not life-threatening.

_Just_ wounded.

Shepard was okay.

_Just wounded._

Then what was taking so damn long?

With a growl forming deep in his chest, he pushed off from the wall. No more waiting. He _needed_ to see her, needed to see for himself that she was all right.

"—stable enough to be moved. Lieutenant, please carry the Commander to the med bay and do _not_ allow her to walk, no matter what she threatens you with. Dr. T'Soni, I'd like you to come up as well so I can take a closer look at that eye."

Garrus barely had enough time to jump back as Dr. Chakwas re-emerged.

"Out of the way, Scars." Vega, carrying Shepard in his arms, marched out behind the doctor. His eyes were dark; his face streaked with blood and grime. "I said, move!" He pushed past Garrus roughly, cradling Shepard close to his chest. She was conscious at least, the rigidness of her posture broadcasting her embarrassment at the indignity of being carried. Her left leg—

_Spirits, her leg…_

The armor plating on her thigh was missing and the exposed flesh looked frighteningly like the pulp of a _granatum_ fruit; a macerated crimson horror that he knew would be bleeding profusely if not for the protective layer of medi-gel that had obviously been slathered on. The lower greave segment of her armor was still partially attached, with one edge bent inward to slice deeply into the back of her calf; the other side dangled down at an odd angle, making him think of the tooth he'd knocked loose during an excursion on Menae.

And then they were past him, the elevator opening and closing to swallow them up, and he hadn't even looked at _her_—

Had her eyes been closed? Had she seen him? Had she looked at him, hoping for a response she didn't get?

"If it's any consolation, I think it's not as bad as it looks."

He turned to face Liara. The right side of her face was mottled with blotches of purple, verging on black; the eye on that side swollen almost completely shut. "What the hell happened out there?"

Liara grimaced. "A bad set of circumstances. The Cerberus forces were more numerous than anticipated and Shepard was… more reckless than I remember."

Garrus' voice was tight and a little hoarse. "What happened to her leg?"

"Frag grenade."

"How did—?"

"Like I said, she wasn't like herself." The words tumbled out as Liara shook her head. "She would rush forward, forcing herself into hand-to-hand even though we could have dispatched them easily enough from a distance." She paused to wipe her eyes wearily. "It wasn't James' fault. He couldn't have predicted she would—"

Garrus froze, anger blazing through him so quickly that it was hard to breathe. "Wait—it was Vega's grenade?"

Liara nodded. "Yes, but it was an accident. He called it out—I heard him—but Shepard didn't… wasn't listening. I don't know. I'm worried about her, Garrus."

He was already charging for the elevator.

"Garrus! Wait!" Liara ran after him, edging in before the doors had fully closed. "It was an accident! That's all. It could have happened any time—"

Garrus stepped into her space with a snarl. "_I _wouldn't have let it happen. _You_ were supposed to be keeping her safe!"

Liara shoved him back with a pulse of blue. "Shepard's a soldier. She knows the risks, better than all of us." The elevator doors opened and Garrus advanced on the med bay as she trailed behind. "You can't protect her from everything!"

"Watch me."

Inside the med bay, Shepard lay on her side on one of the beds, facing away from the doors. Her lower torso was wrapped in a sterile blue sheet with only the mangled flesh of her leg exposed. Dr. Chakwas was bent over her, murmuring quietly as she extracted a large sliver of metal from her flesh. On the cart next to the bed, a small oval-shaped bowl already held a handful of fragments.

Vega was slouched in a chair next to the doors, his head in his hands. He scarcely had time to look up before Garrus had grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall. Some small part of him knew he wasn't behaving rationally but the rest of him didn't care in the slightest.

"Hey! What the hell, man?"

"This is _your_ fault." His mandibles were pulled back enough to be menacing, revealing the sharp points of his teeth. "_Your_ grenade." Garrus couldn't help giving him a shake. "What if you'd killed her? What then?"

Vega heaved Garrus away from him. "Don't you think I know that?" Garrus stumbled back, knocking over a tray of instruments that clattered to the floor as he struggled to keep his footing. "What the fuck, Scars? You want a go at me, or what?"

"Enough!"

Shepard was struggling to sit up, despite Dr. Chakwas' evident protests. Her eyes were hard as she stared both of them down. "Take your fucking adolescent posturing and get out." Garrus felt the icy stillness of her glare settle on him. "Expect to discuss this later. Both of you."

Garrus' arms dropped to his sides, his shoulders sagging, as a wave of shame suddenly engulfed him. "I'm sorry." Edging backward towards the doorway, he managed to bump into something else, sending another cascade of instruments crashing to the floor. "Sorry." Liara was standing, shocked, in the doorway though she stepped aside to let him pass.

Once the doors had slid shut behind him, Garrus stopped; not moving even when Vega brushed angrily past him without a word. He managed a few steps towards the Main Battery, hesitating as his gaze lingered over the sealed med bay doors.

He'd messed up, messed up everything.

The weight of the guilt in his stomach was impossible to ignore as he activated the comm link on his omnitool. "Tali, do you have a minute?"

"Of course. Are you coming down to Engineering or do you want me to come up?"

"I'll come down. Be right there." Even his words felt heavy; burdened with the weight of his guilt, his embarrassment, his rage, his… helplessness. Shepard was hurt and he'd failed her. In more ways than one.

Tali clearly heard the anguished maelstrom of emotion in his voice as her own modulated speech flared with concern. "Is everything all right? Is Shepard—?"

"She's back. Hurt. Not… life-threatening."

Tali's voice was soft, gentle. "Are _you_ all right?"

There was a brief lull before he was able to answer.

"Not really. No."

* * *

_A/N: A huge thank you to my beta, Josie Lange, for her wonderful and helpful rambles that made this chapter so much better. I'm a bit under the weather at the moment, so getting this chapter into something worth posting was a bit of a struggle. _

_Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, favorite, and/or alert as the support is so very appreciated. Thank you! :)_


	5. Examination of Conscience

"Lie still. This is going to take a while."

The med bay felt almost cavernously silent after Garrus' outburst as Shepard now lay listening to nothing more than the hum of the lights and the quiet, precise movements of Dr. Chakwas. Her leg was numb and heavy, although she could still feel the minute movements of the instruments being used to extract the shrapnel from her thigh. Every so often, the digging and prodding stopped, followed by the sound of another fragment joining the others in the bowl.

The twisted greave plate that had sliced into her calf had already been removed; the gash cleaned and sealed with medical adhesive.

Garrus… what the hell had that been? The way he had stormed in and thrown Vega up against the wall had reminded her of the first time she'd him—seen Archangel—on Omega; bleak eyes full of fire. They had so much to talk about now that she didn't even know how she was going to begin. Their paths had diverged, two cracks splintering through a pane of glass, and everything she'd done and not done had only made things worse.

Despite the temptation to close her eyes and lose herself in an antiseptic-scented lull, Shepard stared blankly at the wall. The anesthetic Dr. Chakwas had administered was making her head feel strange, as if she was standing one step outside herself. She traced the seams between the panels with her gaze, anchoring her drifting consciousness to the solidity of the med bay as she studied the slight imperfections in the fit. On the pair of panels closest to the floor, one of the tiny screws on one side didn't match its mate on the other side. One black. One silver.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Her focus slid to Dr. Chakwas' face. The doctor had paused to look at her with eyes that had always struck Shepard as being too kind, too… accepting.

"No." Her voice was still battle-hoarse, raw and raspy.

"Mmm." Dr. Chakwas didn't comment, merely resumed the meticulous probing through Shepard's shredded tissue.

Her gaze returned to the wall and the existential absurdity of the mismatched screws. She _should_ be thinking about how she was going to explain all of this to Hackett, but all she could think about was the dull throb in her head that was steadily building, the gritty heat burning her eyes, the ache settling into her bones. Shepard counted back the hours since she had last slept, since she'd awoken to the memory of emptiness and stars and jealousy choking the air from her lungs.

Too long.

After her leg was patched up, she would sleep. She was fucking up, getting careless.

This wasn't her.

How had she let things slip, lost control so badly? Planet-side, it had felt so _good_ to have something to _fight_, a physical outlet for the fury that was tearing her apart with teeth and claws from the inside. It hadn't taken long for her SMG to not be enough. Not when she wanted to see, hear, taste the damage she was causing. Until Vega's grenade, it had been fucking _amazing_.

They'd scouted out enough to know there were more troops than they'd expected, but it wasn't anything they couldn't have handled. It had been so freeing to race ahead, adrenaline surging as she pushed the limits of her biotic barriers until they hurt—the _good_ kind of hurt, like the dry pull in her lungs after a hard sprint. She'd felt almost invincible, knowing Vega and Liara were behind her—somewhere—but _she_ was free; an unshackled spirit of vengeance.

She hadn't heard Vega call the fucking grenade.

He _had_ called it.

She just _knew_, with that sixth sense that all soldiers—the good ones, anyway—developed over time. But, the lust for destruction had been thundering too loudly in her ears, pulsing in her blood with a fevered sort of madness.

They had been lucky there'd only been a handful of troops left, all of them soon floating comically in the air until Liara had killed them one by one and let them fall. Vega had been at her side in an instant; acting calm and confident as he'd applied the medi-gel to the pulpy flesh of her leg. She'd pretended not to notice his hands were shaking, pretended she couldn't hear the apologies and prayers he'd whispered into her hair as he'd carried her back to the shuttle.

She owed him an apology.

Echoes of her old squad leader's voices colored the words that surfaced in her mind:

_Reckless. _

_Taking unnecessary risks. _

_That's how you get yourself killed. _

_That's how you get your squad killed. _

If Commander fucking Shepard couldn't keep her shit together, how was she supposed to expect—no, _demand_—everyone else to? The way Garrus had charged at Vega, ready to act just as reckless, just as stupid, as she had been…

Fuck. She was supposed to be better than this, wasn't she?

"Commander?"

She was embarrassed to find that her eyes had closed of their own accord and that a tear had escaped, leaving a damp trail down her cheek.

This wasn't her, dammit!

Commander Shepard wasn't weak, didn't let her emotions get in the way. Never mind how raw she felt, as though the confidence she'd always projected was being ground away; layer after layer until there was nothing left but darkness. Dark like the little cupboard in the kitchen on Mindoir, when all she'd been able to do was listen and wait and shake as her nails carved perfect crimson crescents into her skin…

She'd fucked up. She _wouldn't_ do it again. _That_ was what mattered.

Pull it together, soldier.

Focus on the mission.

Dr. Chakwas was crouched in front of her, their faces level. "Are you in pain? I can give you another shot of anesthetic."

"No." She managed a perceptible shake of her head. "My eyes are burning." It was difficult to talk through the self-inflicted hatred. "Just sore. From the incendiary chemicals."

"I can give you some drops that should help in a moment. I'm nearly finished." Dr. Chakwas gave her a lingering look before she stood up and returned to her previous position, although she continued to talk and describe what she was doing; not letting the hungry silence invade Shepard's thoughts once more.

"This is the last one." The final shred of metal was methodically extracted and discarded like the others. "Let me scrub up, and then we'll get you set up under the reconstructive console. The muscle regeneration will take a few hours, plus the time for the temporary skin weave to set."

oOoOo

It had taken more than a few hours—the damage more extensive than the doctor's estimates had suggested—and the evening crew were already well into their shift by the time Shepard limped wearily from the med bay. The analgesics that Dr. Chakwas had injected a few minutes earlier were slowly easing the sparks of pain that jolted with each step. As an added bonus, the drugs were driving off the pounding headache reverberating in her skull as well. Shepard clutched a vial of garishly-colored antibiotics in her hand. Food. She was supposed to take them with food.

She deliberately kept her back to the Main Battery as she hobbled towards the mess, claiming an MRE from the automated dispenser. Chicken with noodles. She gulped it down without tasting it, suddenly ravenous. It took three more nutrient bars before she was sated and she washed down her first dose of pills with her final swallow of artificial, vitamin-fortified orange drink.

She was more than a little relieved that the mess was empty; she'd been half-expecting to find Liara camped out at one of the tables, waiting for her. Liara had left the med bay shortly after Garrus and Vega—at Dr. Chakwas' firm insistence that she needed to concentrate and that any further demands on Shepard's attention could wait a few more hours. With a sigh, Shepard crunched up the empty foil packets in her fist before tossing them into the closest waste receptacle. She really should talk to Liara, too.

Another one to add to the list.

She trudged up to her quarters, placing the vial of antibiotics on the desk. Even with the nightmares she'd been having, the bed looked inviting.

Soon.

Shepard stripped off the last few pieces of armor she still had on, stacking each one neatly on the sanitation racks to be cleaned and disinfected. A brief shower washed away the smell of blood and medi-gel that clung to her, and the simple feeling of being clean was enough to make her feel like she could breathe again. She left her hair down to dry and pulled on the tee-shirt and then the shorts she typically slept in, wincing as she pulled them up over her hips. The edges where the skin weave met her own skin were tender, still red and inflamed.

Messages, then bed.

Shepard settled herself in front of her private terminal and activated the screen. She diligently read the first few but, now that she was cocooned and warm in her quarters, her fatigue was becoming harder to ignore. The words began to blur together as she skipped over all the routine sitreps. Nothing critical had come in. Everything else could wait at least six hours. Then, she could deal with Vega and Liara… and Garrus…

"EDI, patch me through to Joker."

"Yes, Commander."

She turned off the terminal and yawned.

"What's up, Commander?"

"How long to get us back to the Citadel?"

"About sixteen hours. Why? Is the newest issue of Fornax out already?"

Shepard would have laughed if she hadn't been so tired. "Probably, but we need boring things like rations and medical supplies."

"Well, maybe if you weren't using them up all time."

"Yeah, don't give me that. I know what you cost us in painkillers."

"Harsh, Commander. Harsh."

"Just get us there, Joker, and there'll be some shore leave in it for you. Feel free to spread the news."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Night, Joker. Get some sleep."

"You, too."

Shepard stood up gingerly, rubbing at her eyes. Surely, with this level of exhaustion, her sleep would be dreamless. She was already imagining how good the coolness of the sheets was going to feel against her skin when the comm link on her door chimed.

She could barely bite back the groan. Fuck, what now? "Who is it?"

"Shepard? It's Tali. Do you have time to talk, or is this a bad time?"

She wished she could scream.

_Of course_ it was a bad time.

It was late, she'd nearly had her leg blown clean off because of her own fucking stupidity, and she was so tired that she didn't even know how she was still standing.

Just the sound of Tali's voice had sent a spike of pain through her stomach like a hot needle spearing her flesh.

But… she had heard the sadness there, too.

Fuck.

As much as it hurt, a few taps on her terminal turned the panel green. "It's not a bad time. Come in."

* * *

_A/N: A giant, humongous, thank-you to the ever-patient Josie Lange for her invaluable advice on this chapter. I'm so grateful for your help and support!_

_Thank you so much to all of you out there reading! :)_


	6. Fracture

"It's not a bad time. Come in." Shepard steeled herself, placing her palms on her desk and letting her head drop for a moment to stretch her aching muscles. She lifted her head again as the door hissed open and Tali entered. Ignoring the stab of jealous anger—she had no right to be jealous—she managed a semblance of a smile. "What can I do for you?"

Tali looked suddenly unsure, her shoulders sinking a little. "I'm sorry, Shepard. I shouldn't have bothered you." She paused, twisting her hands together. "This can wait. Really."

Shepard shrugged. "You're here now. You wanted to talk. Let's talk. Preferably sitting down, though." The first step made her wince, but she managed to make it down the stairs to the couch in the corner without too much pain. Hopefully, after a few hours of sleep, her cybernetics would have a chance to repair enough of the damage to allow her to move more comfortably.

Tali trailed after her, perching herself on the end of the couch furthest away from Shepard, as if she was about to bolt for the door. Leaning back, Shepard waited for her to speak. The crushing fatigue was making everything feel strangely surreal; blurred around the edges.

At last, Tali seemed to make up her mind about something; sitting up straighter and meeting Shepard's cool gaze. "We need to talk about what happened yesterday."

She couldn't help the involuntary twitch of her muscles as Tali's words pierced through the fog. She kept her reply safe. Neutral. Civil. "Anything specific?"

Tali huffed. "_Keelah_, Shepard, you know _what_ I'm talking about."

Fighting back the tide of irrational anger that surged through her, she clenched her hands into tight fists and slowly released them. Her head swam with images: the embrace she'd walked in on, the two of them, laughing behind her back; wondering when she was going to catch on. Commander Shepard, completely oblivious…

"So, how long has it been going on?"

Tali looked down, rubbing her palms absently over her knees before looking up again. "Fairly recent. I realize that there are regulations against this sort of thing in the Alliance, and I wanted to reassure you that Garrus and I are prepared to abide by them. Even though we aren't Alliance ourselves, it's only fair to the rest of the crew if we follow the same rules."

She didn't know what to say. Did she really think this was all just about regs? Was Tali actually suggesting that she and Garrus were going to break things off? A guilty sort of relief slithered down her spine as Tali continued.

"I wanted to apologise, for earlier, and let you know that it won't happen again. We'll keep our private affairs off the ship. Like we should have done in the first place."

Oh.

Not breaking things off then.

Just doing it out of her sight.

She should be grateful that they were going to be so considerate, not so fucking angry that she was sure she could feel the color rushing to her face. Her hands were clutching the fabric of the couch so tightly that she thought it might rip.

Tali was clearly making an effort to keep her own hands still; her voice dejected and contrite. "I'm sorry. We both are."

Shepard couldn't help the harsh bark of laughter that escaped. _She_ was sorry? Fuck, they weren't doing anything wrong. This was all her. _Her_ fault. If she hadn't been so tired, so worn, so broken, she would have screamed. She held her head in her hands as she sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to maintain control. "You don't need to apologize."

She was the one who should be apologizing. To everybody.

"We're fighting a battle that's starting to look pretty fucking impossible to win from where I'm sitting. I don't think a little fraternization is going to make all that much difference right now." Shepard sat up wearily, letting her head loll back against the top of the couch.

Whatever.

It didn't matter.

_She_ didn't matter.

She was Commander fucking Shepard: paragon; icon; mentor; the Alliance's scapegoat or poster child, depending on their whims.

_That_ was what everyone needed right now and she would give it to them.

Burying her rage, her envy, her weakness, she crushed it down inside and struggled not to shudder; swallowing it all like a mouthful of shattered glass. "I want you and Garrus to find a little happiness in all of this. How could I not? The two of you are my best friends. It just took me by surprise. That's all."

Tali grew very still, studying her. "Do you have feelings for Garrus?"

Everything was threatening to erupt, leaking out through the cracks.

Fuck.

She was going to break.

It took everything she had to maintain her façade; the calm surface hiding the monster beneath. "No."

"You don't have to lie to me, Shepard." Tali's eyes cut deeply. "After everything we've been through together, I'd like to think that we can both be honest with each other."

The air between them was electric with tension; she was holding her breath, sure that Tali was doing the same. The chaotic tower of emotion that she'd been struggling to keep in check was about to come crashing down around her and she was too tired to stop it. She pulled her leg—the good one—up to her chest and wrapped her arms around it as she tried to hold herself together. Tali was watching her and it was too much; she had to close her eyes in a vain attempt to center herself.

Could she be completely honest?

No.

She wasn't going to add Tali and Garrus to the mass of corpses she already carried around on her back—Mindoir, Akuze, Virmire… The weight was already too much to bear.

The half-truth, she owed Tali that much, slipped out more easily than she would have imagined. "I thought I did, once, but I was wrong. I don't. Not anymore."

"Did you ever tell him?" Tali's feigned indifference was almost physically painful to endure.

"No. It would have never worked. For lots of reasons."

They were too different—levo and dextro…

A relationship, especially with a turian, would have damaged her credibility, made it even harder to get the Council to listen…

She was the Commander and he was effectively her subordinate. The fucking regs…

She'd run through them all in her mind, at one time or another, piling on reasons why she should just try and forget about it. The truth, if she could admit even the smallest kernel of it to herself, was that she'd been afraid. Afraid of losing what they had, afraid of losing her best friend, afraid of losing the one reason she had in the whole fucking universe to roll out of bed every morning.

She would save him and he would be happy. He and Tali would build that home on Rannoch and find some peace.

It was an effort to keep the tears away. She hadn't cried in years but, now that the precedent had been set, she couldn't seem to make herself stop. She was worn too thin. "You two are so well-suited for each other. I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry." She tried to smile, but it just wouldn't come.

Couldn't they all see what she was trying to do for them? That she was giving herself—an offering on an altar to some long-forgotten god of war—so they didn't have to?

Tali's voice hummed with concern. "I don't want to hurt you, Shepard. You're my friend—remember? And, I _am_ worried about you. You think we all can't see how exhausted you look?"

Her fury and frustration roared uncontrollably in her ears. "Yes, I'm tired. Of course I'm tired. But, it's not like I can just stop and take a break." She could feel her body tensing, wanting to snap, wanting to lash out. "I'm not sure what everyone is expecting—am I supposed to be prancing around all fresh and rested while the Reapers are annihilating us, planet by planet?" Her last words were a barely restrained yell. "_Of course_ I'm fucking tired!"

Tali didn't look taken aback. Instead, she reached out to touch Shepard's arm. "Is there anything more I can do to help? Anything you need, just ask—"

Tali's kindness filled her with an almost revulsion, a need to get away, to escape.

"I appreciate it, Tali, but, right now, I just need to get some sleep." Shepard stood up abruptly to avoid the contact, fiercely wishing to be left alone. A white bolt of pain lanced through her leg—the analgesics were wearing off—but she held herself steady with just a slight waver.

Tali withdrew, her back perfectly straight. "I'm sorry for being so thoughtless. We can talk more tomorrow."

"Sure."

Anything.

She just wanted her to _go_.

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest, her body language reinforcing the internal barriers she was hastily re-erecting.

It had been a mistake, letting the two of them get too close; letting them see that there was a person, however broken, beneath the image she'd projected for so long.

It was better this way.

Tali turned back, just before the doors. "_Keelah se'lai_. Sleep well, Shepard."

"You, too."

_Just get out._

_I don't want to feel anymore._

* * *

_A/N: My original intent had been to write this chapter from Tali's POV but, after I'd finished it, I realized that we really needed to see Shepard continuing to disintegrate at this point in the story. So, maybe we'll see into Tali's head later on... :)_

_Thank you to Josie Lange for her crazy-fast beta and her always helpful advice and suggestions._

_Thank you, as well, to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, favorite, and/or alert. It means so much to me. _


	7. Downward Spiral

There was… a noise.

Shepard buried her face into her pillow and curled up more tightly on her side. Her body was still heavy with sleep, and she could already feel herself slipping under once more. She was almost there, melting into the oblivion of slumber; dissolving into a dream that was, for once, blissfully numb and empty.

But, something was _still_ making noise and it dragged her up to the surface of wakefulness once again.

It was a noise that should make sense, if she could only concentrate on it, but her thoughts were still too half-submerged for her to think clearly.

"Hey, Commander! Are you waking up or what? I could come get your ass up personally, but we all know how long that would take."

"Joker? What the hell?" Shepard groaned. "What's wrong?"

"Well, the only thing _really_ wrong is the giant fleet of deep space mechanical bugs that are destroying every known sentient life form, but I think you've been briefed on that one already. Currently, though, the asari councillor is getting her tentacles, or whatever those head things are, in a knot because you haven't responded to her communication requests."

"I'll take a look at it now. Anything else?" Shepard rubbed her eyes and reached for her omnitool to turn up the lighting level in her cabin. It was pinging softly, indicating there was at least one urgent message in her inbox.

No, not one.

_Seven_.

Two from Hackett, five from Councillor Tevos.

Shit.

"Not much. We should be docking in about two hours. Oh, and the new Fornax _is_ in, apparently. Should I get them to hold you an issue, or did you want me to just buy two copies when I—"

"Why the fuck is it past 1300?"

Shepard stared at her omnitool in disbelief.

She'd been asleep for over fourteen fucking hours.

"Why didn't anyone wake me?" She scrambled out of bed, biting back a hissed curse at the throb that suddenly magnified in her wounded leg. "EDI!"

"Do you need something, Shepard?"

"Yes, I damn well need something! Why wasn't I woken at the start of my shift?" She yanked off her tee-shirt and carefully shimmied her shorts down over her hips, leaving the discarded garments uncharacteristically in the middle of the floor.

"I'll… just leave you ladies to it. If it gets physical, I want pictures though, okay?"

"Fuck off, Joker! EDI? I want an answer."

"When I informed Dr. Chakwas that you had been asleep for 5.6 hours without waking—your longest period of continual rest since you were reinstated aboard the Normandy—she elected to override your shift reminder. This order was within her authorization clearance, so I saw no reason to disregard it."

Shepard was half-dressed, hopping awkwardly into her pants. "She still… should have… checked with me… first." She knew she wasn't being logical—if they had woken her to check, then it would have made the order irrelevant—but, she was still too annoyed to care. Shepard grabbed her jacket from its hanger, buttoning it as fast her fingers would comply. "What if something had happened?"

"Then we would have woken you up sooner. Councillor Tevos is waiting to speak with you on the vid-com, which is the only reason you were woken now. Otherwise, Dr. Chakwas had requested that you be left undisturbed until we docked at the Citadel."

With a wince, Shepard yanked her hairbrush roughly through her hair before tying it back. She paused for a moment in front of her mirror, eyes quickly skimming over her uniform to ensure she hadn't overlooked anything as EDI continued to talk, though she was barely listening; her mind already racing through everything that had to be done before they docked.

"Dr. Chakwas also requested that I remind you to take your next dose of antibiotics as soon as possible. Do you require anything further?"

She needed to talk to the asari councillor, message Hackett, do a final review of inventory logs… too much work for just two fucking hours. Shepard slammed her palm against the interface to open her door. "Tell Traynor to set up the vid-com. I'm on my way down."

"Of course. Logging you out, Shepard."

oOoOo

The meeting with Councillor Tevos had been mercifully shorter than she had expected, with the councillor saying little and instead requesting a face-to-face meeting in Udina's old office. She'd spoken to Hackett at length after that, delivering a concise summary of her recent shortcomings with a controlled air of detachment.

No more mistakes.

Perfect.

Precise.

Professional.

The rest of her time before they'd reached the Citadel had been a blur of activity—ensuring recovered artifacts would be accessible for prompt removal from the storage bay, reviewing current inventory reports, authorizing supply lists, scheduling maintenance and repair tasks that couldn't be easily done in open space; a mind-numbing onslaught of details and reports.

She hadn't been able to finish everything on her list before they had docked, but it would have to do for now. Her appointment with the asari councillor was in less than an hour and she still needed to review the additional intel that Hackett had provided. Shepard massaged the back of her neck to soothe her kinked muscles before diving into the next pile of datapads that Traynor had left for her as her stomach grumbled unappreciatively.

No time for that now.

Later.

oOoOo

The Citadel's night cycle had already begun by the time Shepard limped out of Udina's office, torn between the troubling news of the aggressive Reaper incursion into Asari space and cautiously hopeful that the Prothean artifact that Councillor Tevos had mentioned might be the key to figuring out exactly what the Catalyst was. Sure, it was a long shot, but it wasn't like they had any other options at the moment. Her leg was aching and tender as she hobbled down the stairs—it still hurt to put her full weight on it—and she reluctantly considered getting Dr. Chakwas to take another look at it if the pain didn't ease up soon.

The crowds in the central area were as thick now as they had been hours earlier; refugees seeking aid from their respective embassies; military personnel waiting for deployment. There was no real need for her to rush back to the ship—they were running a staggered skeleton crew for the next few days to allow everyone a chance at some shore leave—so Shepard made no effort to push her way through, letting the natural flow of the people surrounding her direct her movements.

Once she reached the elevators, she hesitated. She should head back to the Normandy, but the empty pull in her gut from too many forgotten meals made her reconsider. The thought of food—_real_ food—was dangerously appealing. She pulled up her omnitool and checked her messages; there was nothing critical on the ship itself that required her immediate attention. There were a few people she needed to speak with on the Citadel, but the lateness of the hour made it unlikely that she would be able to find any of them. Maybe she had time for something quick…

The group of people in front of the elevator surged forward as the doors opened, and she let herself get carried along. It was oddly comforting to be alone, surrounded by strangers who had no idea who she was; too consumed by their own problems to give even a moment's thought to the person standing next to them. She could grab a transport to one of the market wards, get some proper street food, and be back on board in less than half an hour.

Her mind made up, Shepard got off at the next floor, and the insistent pulse that began to reverberate through her skull made it obvious where she was.

Purgatory.

Members of all races congregated here, seeking to forget their fears for a few short hours; drowning themselves in what used to be cheap liquor while the head-pounding beat of the music made it physically impossible to think. Not necessarily a bad thing, these days. She recognized a few of her own crew milling around near the entrance; faces she could put names to, though didn't know much about their backgrounds.

There was a long queue waiting for transport shuttles on this floor as Shepard smothered a wave of irritation. Of course. She was on her way back to the elevator, trying not wince at the shot of heat that accompanied every other step she took, when a voice stopped her.

"Commander."

She turned. "Lieutenant Vega." He was standing at attention, his expression more subdued than she'd come to expect from him. "What? No 'Lola?'"

He shrugged awkwardly. "I wasn't sure it was appropriate, Commander. Not after what happened yesterday…"

Shepard held herself perfectly straight. Poised. In control.

_Garrus, charging into the med bay and throwing James up against the wall. His voice tempered with a harsh growl..._

"Look." Shepard kept her gaze solidly on his. "I owe you an apology. I know you called that grenade." Her tone was as level and unwavering as when she'd said the same words to Admiral Hackett earlier in the afternoon. "It was my own fault for charging ahead and not listening. I got careless and… it could have been a lot worse. Don't blame yourself."

James didn't look away, folding his arms over his broad chest. "Who said I was blaming myself?"

"Spare me the bullshit. I know what it feels like to a make a bad call that hurts your squad. This time, it was _my_ bad call, not yours. Clear?"

He studied her for a long moment before the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxed. "Clear."

"Good. Now, don't let me keep you from your evening. I don't know when we're going to be back here next, so you might as well enjoy it."

"I plan to." James gestured towards the entrance to the club. "You coming in for a bit?"

Shepard shook her head. "Nah, not really my thing." She quickly flicked through her omnitool, checking her messages before flashing him a small smile. "Thanks for the offer."

"Aw, c'mon, Lola. What's the point of shore leave if you don't even take a few hours off?"

"No time." She pushed a button and the faint glow from the display faded. "It's fine. Really."

"One drink."

"I don't—"

"Just one. I'll even buy it for you."

"You're not going to give up, are you?"

James merely grinned. "I think you'll find I'm remarkably persistent. Besides, didn't you just apologize to me? Maybe _you_ should be buying _me_ a drink, no?"

Shepard gave in with a sigh. She did owe it to him, and she could still make up the lost time if she went straight back to the ship afterward. "Fine, but I can't stay long."

oOoOo

Inside, the music had been impossibly louder as James had, by some stroke of luck, managed to find them an empty table tucked away in the back corner closest to the bar. They'd passed Joker and EDI on their way in, but, thankfully, there had been no sign of Garrus or Tali. The thought was enough to make Shepard reach for her drink; a ridiculously colorful concoction—rainbows of fruit-flavored slush layered in a tall fluted glass—that justified its appearance only by being incredibly refreshing. She'd laughed when James had set it down before her while clutching a respectable tumbler of whisky and ice for himself—both purchased with her credit chit.

Cortez had joined them not long after they'd arrived, buying her another drink—despite her protests—and he and James were now happily swapping stories of pranks they'd pulled, people they'd fucked, and missions that had gone pear shaped but had somehow turned out all right in the end…

She wondered if this would be one of them. Not likely.

Purgatory was warm, even with the temperature regulators working non-stop, and Shepard couldn't deny that the sweet coolness on her tongue was better than she'd expected. She was content to sit back, tracing the trails left behind by the droplets of water condensing on the outside of her glass. She laughed in the right places, egged them on in others; there, but not there. Her thoughts ghosted from Thessia to her conversation with Tali, to the quiet ache where her two closest friends should have been.

When her second drink was nearly finished, the final multi-hued dregs dissolving into greyish brown syrup, a barely-clothed asari dropped another in its place. "From him," she whispered, leaning in closer than necessary; her lips scant millimeters away from brushing the shell of Shepard's ear. The asari pointed towards a cluster of tables where Joker was giving her a definitive smirk.

Shepard edged away, uncomfortable with the warm breath caressing her skin. "Thanks. Can you do me a favor and bring him one of these, too? Preferably with spiders or something in the bottom."

The asari smiled, her perfectly symmetrical rows of white teeth gleaming in the pulses of neon light. "We do have candied _pandinus_; they're similar."

"Perfect." She slid the new drink towards her and took a long pull through the straw. It tasted even better than her last one. "Put a few big ones in there for me. Extra claws and pincers. They're his favorite."

James clapped her on the shoulder as the waitress strolled sensuously back to the bar. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

Cortez laughed. "Likewise."

Shepard sipped her drink as they waited, falling into gales of laughter with the others at Joker's horrified reaction at the mound of giant scorpion-like insects heaped in the center of his glass. It shouldn't have been so funny, but she was having a hard time stopping.

Her head was throbbing in time with the music and that made it bearable; like the amplified thud of her own heart and the blood rushing through her veins. Maybe she had been missing out, shutting herself away from all of this. She checked her omnitool again out of habit, just in case she had missed the quiet chime indicating that a new message had come in, but her inbox was the same as it had been an hour ago. She could stay a little longer. After all, she was only cutting into her scheduled sleep period, and she'd had more than enough last night anyway.

Shepard wasn't sure when she'd finished it, but her glass was empty once more and James ordered her another cocktail; this one was pale blue, carbonated with a dark violet gas that was making a stream of tiny bubbles float lazily to the surface. With a shiver—maybe the temperature regulators were _finally_ working—she took a generous swallow and let the fizziness tickle the roof of her mouth.

A pair of Alliance soldiers that she didn't know cajoled Vega and Cortez into joining them on the dance floor; they tried to get her up, too, but she waved them off with excuses about her leg. She'd never liked dancing much anyway… During the celebration after they'd brought down Saren, she remembered Garrus teasing her; how could she be so graceful with an SMG in her arms and yet have such a deplorable sense of rhythm? The fondness of the moment was gone now, like her memories of Mindoir. It made her think of catching snowflakes as they fell, that one time it had inexplicably snowed; opening her hands excitedly each time only to find them empty.

For fuck's sake, was she ever going to be able to think about him again without feeling this way?

Draining the rest of her drink, Shepard signalled the waitress to bring her another. After this one, she would go. It certainly didn't look like James or Cortez was going to be back any time soon.

Shepard wrapped her arms around her chest, rubbing her hands over her upper arms to generate a little warmth, as she waited for the asari to return. Joker and EDI had gone elsewhere; their table was now occupied by a trio of salarians. A nearby group of Alliance marines were louder than the rest, cheering noisily for the asari dancer gyrating suggestively in the center of their table. There were enough of them that they effectively obscured her view of most of the tables beyond.

But not enough.

Not enough for her to miss them, as the bottom fell out of her heart.

They were laughing, Garrus' mandibles flared open in a wide grin. Tali was nestled against his side, his arm draped loosely over her narrow shoulders, as she tilted her head up to look at him.

Well.

Fuck.

They hadn't seemed to notice her, at least, as she shrank further back into the corner, but she would have to walk past them to reach the club's exit.

"Here you go. Need anything else?" Shepard hadn't even noticed the waitress' return.

"No. Thanks."

She would wait them out. No big deal.

When her drink was gone, she ordered another. She was staring at them—how could she not?—as they flirted, teased, talked. Each casual gesture of affection, every time she touched him, every time he touched her was a bullet ripping through _her_ flesh. Shepard was trembling almost violently, only the methodical action of lifting her glass to her mouth and swallowing was keeping her together.

His hand lay on top of hers, absently stroking her long fingers as she talked.

Shepard gulped the last of the drink that was currently in front of her and looked around for the waitress, but the faces around her all seemed to blend into each other, swirling together like smoked glass…

She swore she could hear their laughter, directed at her, and her head felt fuzzy and muddled; like it had when she'd first woken up to Miranda's frantic voice urging her out of her subconscious haze.

Commander fucking Shepard.

If she could've seen her now…

She let her head drop until her forehead touched the coolness of the tabletop and she fought back another shiver.

Better.

A minute later, or maybe an hour, someone pulled out the chair opposite her. "Hey, Shepard."

It took a moment before she could make her body obey and she lifted her head, trying to make her eyes focus.

Of course.

She should have seen it coming, really, after how the rest of this fucking day had gone.

Her words were slurred and shaky. "Kaidan. Should've known. Just when I thought the universe was done telling me to go fuck myself."

* * *

_A/N: Many, many apologies for how long it took to get this chapter written and posted. Thank you all so much for your patience and support!_

_A huge thank you to Josie Lange for the beta and all your helpful comments and suggestions, and thank you as well to Seika (xseikax here on FFNet) for her help and advice in getting me past my writer's block. Seika also did this gorgeous picture of Shepard (she's incredibly talented), so please go check it out. :D_

ladyseika dot deviantart dot com/art/Fracture-Patterns-320147680


	8. Ripple Effect

Kaidan studied her, his eyes as warm and distant as they'd ever been. She could see him taking her in, reading everything—like he'd always been able to—in the downward slant of her shoulders, in the chaotic, unbound strands of her hair that cut into the softness of her face. Her muscles trembled under the weight of his stare, but she remained defiantly still; her eyes locked on his as if there were a bomb between them again, forcing her to choose.

He blinked, letting his gaze drift down in a brief admission of deferral, before glancing back up at her face. "You okay?

She couldn't help it; she laughed, maybe a little too loud. "Do I look okay? Sure. Why not? That's all anyone wants to hear anyway, isn't it?" Shepard leaned back in her chair with an exaggerated slowness; even that slight motion was enough to make the contents of her head tilt and roll like she was a green recruit experiencing zero-g for the first time.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like this before." He edged his chair in closer to the table, mercifully blocking her view of Garrus and Tali. "You don't seem… like yourself."

"I don't know who that is anymore." She wanted to say more, but she couldn't catch the words as they wriggled away, just out of her reach, deeper into the fog that muddled her thoughts.

Kaidan blew out a long breath. "I don't want to presume, but do you want to talk? You used to trust me, or, at least I thought you did. Maybe I was wrong…"

"I _did_ trust you. None of you get it, do you? It's not you I don't trust. It's me." Shepard shivered as she coiled her arms around her chest. "Staying apart keeps me safe. Keeps everything inside where it has to stay." She stared at his face, looking through him with a vacant expression.

"It's too much for one person, Shepard." His eyes were sad, filled with pity, and it made her angry; rage blazing up in a white inferno of flames bursting through her skin and licking it raw. She wanted to scream, wanted to overturn the table and hurl it across the room. Instead, she shook, forcing huge gulps of air into her clenched lungs.

"You don't understand. Nobody understands." Her mouth wasn't cooperating, and her speech was as thick and slow as cold gun oil.

He stretched his hand out as if to touch her, but she flinched away and Kaidan let it fall to the table instead. "Then let someone in. I know why it can't be me, but—"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because… I don't know." She shook her head, caving in on herself as she hunched forward, curling inward. "Because I did let someone—I tried—but it wasn't enough. Not far enough." Her voice quivered. "I don't know how. I'm alone and everyone is gone."

The suffocating darkness of the little cupboard in the kitchen on Mindoir; batarian voices guttural and low. The smell of her own vomit that lingered in the uncirculated air…

The screams—oh, God, the _screams_—that had slashed open the night on Akuze; flesh dissolving in the puddles of acid that hissed at her feet…

"Shepard."

She twitched backward in a hair-trigger movement to avoid the hand that reached out. "Don't touch me."

"Shepard. It's me."

Blue eyes—a hue that would have been unnatural in a human—met hers.

"Garrus?"

oOoOo

The evening had started off better than he'd thought, considering that he hadn't slept much the night before and that his day had been spent worrying about Shepard in addition to juggling calls from the Primarch along with his other duties. He needed to talk to her, before everything that had come between them drove them irreparably apart. That they could have come so far together, done so much, only to fall to pieces now…

It hurt.

It hurt like an ache building in his bones; the growing sense of distance carrying with it an echo of what it had been like to lose her the first time. When she'd found him, rescued him, on Omega, he'd sworn to himself that he would _never_ leave her again. Never. Ironically, it was that promise that now left him paralyzed with cowardice about seeking her out. What if she cut him free? Demanded he go? He needed more time to think about how to approach this without hurting Shepard, without hurting Tali…

When the shore leave announcement had come over the ship-wide comm link, Tali had coaxed him out of his brooding. It would be good for him, she had said—for both of them—to take a few hours away, off the ship. Shepard was apparently swamped with meetings, so there was no point in him trying to talk to her until tomorrow at the earliest.

He had to admit that it had been nice, more than nice, to have some _real_ food. Although the restaurant they had eaten at had only had a limited menu because of shortages and rationing, it had been a far cry from the nutrient paste Tali had been subsisting on, and certainly better than the dextro-friendly MREs he'd been eating.

They'd gone to Purgatory afterwards, and now Tali's warmth was curled into his side; his head feeling pleasantly lighter after a few drinks. He liked the way she laughed at his jokes; the fact that she teased him as much as he teased her… She was right. He _had_ needed this. Time away to breathe a little and unwind.

Shepard never took shore leave, never took time for herself. Maybe that was why—

"Why so serious, Vakarian?" Tali poked his shoulder lightly. "No thinking about Thanix cannons tonight, got it?"

"I wasn't… I was thinking about…" His voice trailed off. "About Shepard."

"Oh." She fell silent, stirring her drink with the tip of her straw.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Garrus slid his hand around her shoulders and pulled her in closer. "I didn't mean to ruin—"

"It's all right. I'm worried about her, too." Tali sighed and took a sip of her drink. "I… went to talk to her last night. About everything. About… us."

Garrus stilled, afraid to breathe, even as his heart began to thunder in his chest. "What did she say?"

"Not much. She…" Tali looked down and continued to fiddle with her straw, crushing the tube between her fingers. "She looked lost. Brittle. She always seemed so strong, you know. I admired that, wished I could be more like her." She paused, not meeting his eyes. "_Keelah_, I wish this wasn't so hard to say."

"You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do." Tali looked up into his face. "Garrus, I think Shepard is in love with you."

He sputtered, not sure what to say, and more than a little ashamed by the flutter of elation in his gut. "There's no way."

"It's the only explanation that makes sense with how she's been acting. Ever since she… walked in on us, the other day in the Battery."

"She's never said anything to me." He would have remembered if she'd had; after the way he'd clung for so long to the hope that those lilted, half-smiles had been only for him.

Tali shifted away from his side, her hands restless in her lap. "Look, Garrus… If you want to end things between us, I understand. I know you and Shepard have always been close. If you have feelings—"

"What? No." A sudden stab of fear shot through him. Whatever sort of _might've beens_ existed with Shepard, _this_ was real. Garrus pulled her back, brushing his forehead against her faceplate. "Shepard's my best friend, but I don't want to give up on us, whatever this could be, before we've even had a chance to figure it out."

Her fingers came up to caress the ridges around his eyes, feathering down his jaw and over his mandibles. "I don't want to give this up, either, but we need to help Shepard and I don't know how."

"I don't know, either. I wish I did."

They sat in silence, finishing their drinks, as the club pulsed around them.

Garrus squeezed her hand affectionately. "You want one more round?"

"Sure."

After several unsuccessful attempts to flag down a waitress, he shrugged. "I'll just go get them. Otherwise, we'll be here all night."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

Her words filled him with warmth as he raised his brow plate at her. "Well, I _did_ have some other ideas…"

Tali laughed. "_Bosh'tet_. Hurry back, then."

The crowds were thick as he pushed his way through to the bar. Even the bartenders were being run off their feet tonight, and he leaned back against the bar as he waited to order. He scanned the tables around him—reinforced habits of self-preservation—and then… the rest of the room fell away.

Shepard.

He wasn't sure if he thought her name or spoke it, but he was striding forward on instinct alone.

oOoOo

Shepard blinked. Once. Twice. "Hey, Garrus. Didn't know you were here."

Her hands were shaking as she reached for the glass in front of her, and she could barely hold it steady as she raised it to her mouth. She swallowed the last minute traces of liquid before setting it down with far too much force.

"Are you—?"

"I'm fine. Totally fine. Better. Good." Her eyes were glassy; her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Clear signs of human intoxication. All too familiar with from his days at C-Sec.

He glanced helplessly back towards Tali, but she wasn't looking in their direction. "Shepard, I think we need to get you back to the ship."

"Nah, s'okay." She shuddered violently. "Don't need you… don't need... Don't need help. Besides, Kaidan's here. Great, huh? You should sit. Catch up."

His mandibles unconsciously flared open, and he clamped them tightly back against his jaw as he crouched down, bringing the height of his head down to match hers. Garrus kept his voice calm, just loud enough to carry over the thump of the music. "Kaidan's here?"

Shepard giggled; the _wrongness_ of it made his stomach twist. "He's _right_ there." She gestured at the chair across from her.

The empty chair.

He couldn't stop the stricken, high-pitched keen of his subvocals, inaudible to most other races, although every other turian in the vicinity swiveled to look at them. His protective instincts bellowed at him to gather her up, bring her close, shield her, even though he knew he _couldn't _for so many reasons.

"Shepard…" He murmured the words as gently as he could. "Kaidan's dead. He died on Virmire."

* * *

_A/N: I'm currently beta-less, as the lovely Josie Lange is taking some much needed time off to have her baby (hopefully today!), so all mistakes are my own. Thank you so much to all of you out there reading and for your wonderful reviews/comments. I appreciate it more than you know. _


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